Randomnimity
by ShipperWriter
Summary: A drunk John explains - and shows - what "randomnimity" means to Elizabeth. Sparky for the win!


Same disclaimer as "Taste Test": written after drinking a beer in 15 minutes, getting a little goofy, and having a very interesting Sparky discussion with Scary Kitty on GateWorld Forum. If this offends anyone ... it's her fault!

Enjoy! And review! Why do I keep forgetting to tell people that?

* * *

"Randomnimity."

Elizabeth Weir looked up from her desk to the tall handsome - _mental smack _- lieutenant colonel that just appeared out of nowhere. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, leaning against the frame of the door that rarely closed anymore.

"What?" she asked for clarification, a bemused expression on her soft face.

John Sheppard awkwardly pushed himself off the frame and took a seat, not in the chair, but on the corner of her desk. "Randomnimity," he said again, quite simply, looking as though it was the most natural word in the world.

"Must be Ancient. I'm not familiar with it." The glint in her eyes shone almost as brightly as it did in his.

He shrugged. "It basically means doing something completely out of the blue, acting like it never happened, then repeating it multiple times. But giving it a slightly different twist each time. So you're not actually repeating it, it's randomly happening again and again and again."

Elizabeth looked at him, noticing the looseness in his smile, then sighed, closing the lid on her computer. "John. Have you been drinking?"

"Eeh. Maybe one or two. Or five, I lost count."

She groaned. "John, I hardly think this is the appropriate time for that."

"Oh, c'mon, 'Lizbeth!"

She thanked God she was sitting; the slur of her name made her knees turn into water. Her legs were slightly quaking under the desk.

"I hafta show you what exactly randomnimity means, then I'll let you finish your game of Solitaire."

She moaned in frustration, then in surprise as John pressed his lips to his.

In her office.

With all the windows open.

For everyone to see.

A quick dart of her eyes confirmed that no one was in direct visual range, then her eyes drifted shut as John moaned, deepening the kiss for only a moment before releasing her lips.

She licked her lip, suddenly and acutely aware of the presence that his mouth left on her.

John smirked, looking very proud of himself. "There. Randomnimity."

From her seat, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "Meet me in my quarters. Fifteen minutes, Colonel."

He left her office, crap-eating grin still on his face as he threw a very casual "Yes ma'am" over his shoulder.

* * *

John stood at the entrance to Elizabeth's quarters, self-consciously tugging at the front of his black button shirt. _Why did I change?_ he queried himself. _She's probably gonna give me hell for that one._

He ran his hand over the sensor.

"Come in."

John narrowed his eyes. She didn't _sound _irate.

He entered.

Elizabeth stood in front of him, arms crossed as the doors slid shut behind the slightly nervous colonel. She was wearing that pale tank top that he hadn't seen in quite some time. He chided himself.

_What? I missed it!_

"Colonel, you do realize that your recent actions in my office might draw some undue attention to yourself, causing personnel to doubt your capacity as the ranking military leader of this city?" she mildly questioned him as she walked behind him. He heard something chime but didn't pay it any attention, trying to wrap his mind around what Elizabeth was saying.

_Oh crap. I'm not getting out of this._

He straightened. "Maybe not at the moment I did it. But I'm starting to realize it now. I apologize," he said quietly, bowing his head, almost anticipating her pulling out a ruler and rapping his knuckles.

What he didn't expect was to see Elizabeth's tank top suddenly appear on the floor in front of him.

He looked up quickly at her, barely bracing himself as she grabbed his neck, returning the earlier kiss full force.

His brain immediately ceased functioning.

Elizabeth pulled back just slightly, a devious smile on her face. "I know you weren't really drunk, John."

"Ya sure? Cause it feels like I am," he drawled.

"If you were, despite your MENSA brain level, I doubt you could've correctly pronounced randomnimity four times straight," she told him, eyes searching his as he blinked in realization.

"You were paying attention, Dr. Weir," he sarcastically commended her.

She smiled, almost shyly, before continuing. "So you said the definition of randomnimity was repeating an action multiple times with different variants?"

"Uh-huh?"

She began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let's test this, shall we?"

He groaned. "Yes, ma'am!"

Fin.


End file.
